


Without You

by anenigmaticsmile



Series: Straight Through Me Universe [2]
Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, or at least as happy as I get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-04
Updated: 2017-06-04
Packaged: 2018-11-08 23:22:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11092044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anenigmaticsmile/pseuds/anenigmaticsmile
Summary: Minseok deals with some very bad news.Addendum: The other side of the coin.





	Without You

**Author's Note:**

> [cross-posted from tumblr](https://anenigmaticsmile.tumblr.com/post/159139208138/without-you)

"Sir, can you hear me?  Sir?"

Minseok stared at the phone.  This wasn't happening.  This  _couldn't_  be happening.

"Sir?  I need you to talk to me.  Yes or no, sir.  Can you hear me?  Sir?"

It was an empty horror he felt as he held the phone to his mouth.

"I hear you."

It was funny, how calm his voice was.

"Okay, sir.  Can you stay on the phone while I transfer you to one of our care members?"

The phone was shaking.  He couldn't stay on the phone.  He needed to sit, to stay, to hold himself together.

"No.  I'm in a meeting."

It was a lie and they both knew it.

"Sir, I highly suggest you let me transfer you."

His breathing was catching in his throat but his eyes were dry and he thought he was going to vomit.

"I said I can't stay.  Just give me a number to call."

The voice on the phone relented and hung up with a click that felt a little too final.

Minseok dropped the phone and stared at his hands.

He was trembling, he noticed.  Something twisted in his stomach and he was running; his hands hit the porcelain of the toilet just in time.

His stomach was empty and the bile had long since burned his throat when the tears started streaming down his face.  He had no idea how long he'd sat there sobbing and vomiting before he finally rolled back to his feet.

The metal handle felt too cold against his skin as he flushed the toilet. Robotically, he brushed his teeth and rinsed his mouth, removing the acrid taste.  He washed his face with cold water and stumbled out of the bathroom, feet catching on the switch from tile to carpet..

The floor seemed so far away as he searched for his phone.  The others needed to know – he needed to call them because they're dead, or probably dead, Kris and Tao and Luhan and Lay. Luhan – dead! Luhan was dead and Minseok was not sure what he was going to do, but right now the others needed to know.  He found his phone and his fingers were automatically punching numbers, but no, no, that number, it wouldn't pick up.

He curled himself into a chair as he thought who to call.  He thought Suho, first, and then the two of them could split the others because they  _listened_ to Suho like they never listened to him, but that wouldn't work.  Suho wouldn't pick up the phone – he'd have gotten the same call, and he'd still be on the phone with the workers, or with family, or with a friend.  Someone.

Kyungsoo worked on Thursdays, and, as the phone screen reminded Minseok, it was only nine.  He'd call at lunch, it could wait until Kyungsoo has time to talk.

Before Minseok realized he had dialled the phone, it was ringing in his ear.

5 rings.  6 rings.  7.

A tone sounded, and then:  "Oh Sehun.  I can't answer the phone right now, but leave your name and number and I will get back with you as soon as possible."

Minseok hung up, fingers flying as he punched the next contact. It was no use.  Baekhyun's phone rang and rang and rang and rang.

Chanyeol and Kai's phones went straight to voicemail.  They were probably at work.

Minseok could barely hold the phone still enough to hit Chen's name.  _He has to pick up.  He's the last one.  He has to pick up_.

"Minseok?"  And Minseok had never been happier to hear Chen's confusion.  "What's up?"

"Do you have time to talk?"

And there must have been something in his voice that betrayed his fear, because Chen was speaking quickly to him.  "Yeah, yeah. Class is almost over anyway.  What's wrong?"

Minseok steadied himself with a deep breath.  "The plane crashed."

"The plane crashed?  Minseok, what are you talking about?" Chen's voice was confused and panicked and he knew exactly what Minseok meant.

"The Beijing flight.  It crashed, and I was told," he exhaled, "I was told there are no survivors."

Chen inhaled on the other end.

It was still for a moment, then Chen spoke.  "Are you at home?"

"Yes."  The apartment was so empty and that was all Minseok could focus on.

"Stay put.  I'm coming over.  Give me five minutes."

Minseok hummed and hung up the phone.

 

_7 February_

By the time there was a knock at the door, Minseok's hands had stopped shaking and the fog had started to lift from his mind.  The door unlocked easily under his steadied hands and Chen pushed his way in excitedly.

It was a weird kind of clarity that filled Minseok's mind as he greeted Chen.  "Thanks for coming."

"Of course.  Are you okay?  What do you know?"  Chen's eyes were wide and his words were rushed.

That weird clarity narrowed Minseok's thoughts.  "You're dripping."

Chen nervously tugged at his collar.  "Yeah.  It's pouring out."

And this was the easiest thing Minseok's brain had had to process in the last hour.  "Come on.  Let me get you some dry clothes."

Chen followed obediantly, unsure of what was happening, but there was something in the way Minseok's hands fluttered at his sides that said  _this is what must be done.  This is what makes sense._

Minseok rummaged in a drawer for a minute and pulled out some well-worn clothing.  He pressed it into Chen's hands and left the room, letting the door click soundly behind him.  Chen changed quickly.  He chuckled as he rolled the sleeves up; even though they  _never_  had parties at Minseok's, the man still ended up with all the leftover clothes.  He hung his wet clothes on the clotheshorse and left the room, footsteps softened by the too-big socks.

Chen plopped down on the couch next to Minseok and was startled when Minseok dropped the phone from his ear.

"I'm sorry," Minseok said, hands starting to twist in the air, "I don't know what I was expecting."

Chen frowned and pulled his sleeves up his arms, letting his own hands shake a little to mirror the other.  "Minseok? Who did you just call?"

"I don't know what I was expecting."

"Minseok."

"I guess I just thought that it might all be a bad dream, you know.  I thought that maybe if I called him, he'd answer, and it'd all be a laugh."  Minseok shook his head and gave a mirthless laugh.  "He didn't, of course."

Chen tried for words, something to lessen the pain, but he couldn't find anything.  Minseok looked and sounded so calm, but his hands were shaking and his shoulders were twitching.

Minseok saved Chen from the agony of trying to comfort by suddenly switching on the TV.  It was obviously just for a distraction, not because of anything Minseok really wanted to watch, because Minseok left it on some 24-hour news network.  He turned his attention to the TV and sat uncomfortably on the couch, back ramrod straight and feet flat on the floor.

"-and we're still getting updates on the plane crash, folks," the TV tuned in, the female anchor's face serious as she talked, voice perfectly measured between perky and grave.  "Latest updates from the scene are saying things are looking better than expected.  Our latest sources say that all passengers and crew are now accounted for, and," here footage of the wreck was shown, a smoking mass of twisted metal that would have been more easily believed soldered to the ground than previously capable of flight, "incredibly, they've pulled five survivors from that wreck.  All are in critical condition, officials say, but they are not dead.  Officials have stated that they are calling family as bodies are identified. Currently identified survivors are..."  Names displayed on the screen as the news anchor kept talking.  The boys sat still on the couch in fear.  Luhan was a forgone conclusion; the phone call wouldn't have come if they hadn't been damn sure.  But there was hope, with five survivors.

Only one name displayed.  It's still better than nothing.

"Lay's alive!  Minseok, Lay's on the list of survivors!"  Chen was excited, walling off the part of his brain that was trying to tell him what it meant  _not_  to be on that list, what it meant for Kris and Tao.

The fog was dropping back over Minseok's eyes and his voice was flat as he answered. "I saw."  He fumbled with the phone in his lap.  "I should call the others.  I should tell them what we know."

Chen immediately offered to help.  He dialled Chanyeol, and then Kai.  Both phones were still going straight to voice mail.  It had only been an hour.  He left a quick message on each.  "Hey!  It's Chen.  Call me or Minseok as soon as you get the chance.  Thanks."

Minseok's first call was picked up on the first ring.  

"I can't talk now," Kyungsoo snapped.  "I'll call when I have time."  The call disconnected abruptly, leaving Minseok staring at the phone in his hands.

Sehun and Suho's phones both proved to be busy.

Minseok sighed as he punched the last contact on his phone.

Baekhyun answered after the third ring, voice sounding just as dead and dull as Minseok felt inside.  "Minseok?  What do you want?"

Minseok explained quickly, voice strangely strong and clear even over the words – "Luhan's dead" – and carefully emphasized that small hope, that Lay was not yet dead.

There was no change in Baekhyun's voice at the news.  "Oh.  I see," he responded, almost casually, "Thank you for letting me know."  He terminated the call.

Chen glanced at Minseok's face, slowly falling, and changed the channel to something that was bright and colorful and cheery, not that either of them could see it.

 

_5 March_

"Here, stand still.  You fidgeting isn't helping matters."  Chen gripped Minseok's shoulders and turned the man to face him.  The steady hands calmed Minseok's twitching and he stood still as Chen fixed his bowtie.  "That's better.  You look sane, now."

Minseok fiddled indecisively with the buttons of his suit jacket, eyes downcast and weight shifting between his feet.

Chen quickly buttoned Minseok's jacket and pressed Minseok's palms together between his own.  "Everything's going to be all right, Minseok."

Minseok shook his head, dislodging the bowtie again.  "It's...not."

Chen straightened the bowtie. "It will be.  Come on, they're waiting."  He turned Minseok to face the door and gently pressed on the small of his back.

Minseok yielded easily, fingers fidgeting at his cuffs as Chen opened the door to the service.

The room seemed too small for the crowd that was gathered and it was suffocating.  The crowd, easily thirty people in size, was gathered into small groups throughout the room, each conversing in hushed whispers. 

Everything became a blur of black as Chen's hand at his back pushed Minseok through the room.  Minseok blinked as his feet stopped moving and his breath caught in his chest.

The three pictures leaned against the wall, candles lit in front of each, and it was too much.  Later, Minseok would sit on his bed and stare at pictures of Luhan, but right now he couldn't even look.  Just seeing his face split him in two.  Chen rubbed his back in comfort as he helped him to remember to make a bow and guided him to the side.

Chen pressed Minseok into place and whispered, "Stand here.  I'll be right back."

As Chen walked away, Minseok's eyes trailed over the crowd.  Most of them he didn't recognize: colleagues and friends of Kris and Tao, fellow students he'd seen maybe once or twice in a class.  Some of the faces were more familiar: Luhan's peers, friends they'd had drinks with before.  

There was a sudden presence at his side and he startled, but it was just Suho.  Suho didn't make small talk, just stared at the pictures with puffy red eyes. 

The others were standing nearby.  Chanyeol was chattering inanely to an irritated Kyungsoo while a nervous Sehun leaned as far back from the inevitable retaliation as possible.  Kai was trying to keep up in the conversation as best he could, but it was made all the more difficult with the way that Baekhyun was leaning into him, clearly holding none of his own weight, reddened eyes half open.  Kai wrapped a reassuring arm around Baekhyun's waist as he listened to whatever stupid thing Chanyeol was saying this time.

Minseok jumped as something nudged at his arm.  

"Eat this.  You look like you're about to pass out."  Chen pressed a small cake into Minseok's hand.

Nibbling at it, Minseok said, "It's too much.  Can I go?  Please?"

Chen smiled sadly.  "We need to stay just a little longer.  Let people see you're here.  Let people talk to you if they want."

"I don't want..."  The words refused to form.

It didn't matter.  "I know.  It's just a little longer.  And," he squeezed Minseok's arm, "I'm right here."

 

_6 September_

Minseok growled as he threw the papers down.  Of course his proposition would be denied.  It was  _only_  the  _best_  idea to come out of a new hire – his whole division, even – in the past  _year_. But  _no_ , he was  _new_  and  _untested_  and  _untried_  and  _couldn't possibly_ know  _anything_  about sound investment. 

Never mind his two degrees in business and management.  Never mind his half-finished Master's.  Never mind it, of course, because he was  _too young_. He knocked his chair over as he stood up abruptly, scooping the papers off the table and shoving them roughly into his portfolio.

The bloody portfolio wouldn't go nicely into his bag and he let the lot drop into a graceless heap on the floor.  It wasn't like he  _cared_  any more.  The idea had already been dismissed.

His phone rang.  He snatched it off the table and answered sharply. "What?"

"Hey!" Sehun's cheerful voice grated on Minseok's nerves.  "I got the job! We're heading to get drinks-"

"Congratulations," Minseok cut him off.  "Now leave me alone."  He ended the call and threw the phone back down on the table.

Groaning, he stalked over to his chair and sank into it.  He rubbed his eyes and flipped on the tv, hoping for something distracting.  Five weeks' work and nothing to show, dammit!

Halfway through some way-too-colourful variety show, his phone rang again. He mumbled a curse at it and let it ring out.  Immediately it rang again.

Right. Minseok muttered curses as he went back to the table, tripping on the pile of shit on the floor.  Chen, the caller ID read.

He sighed.  "Yes?"

"Just checking to see if you're doing all right."

"This is about Sehun."

"No, no.  No.  Yes.  He said you cut the call off -"

"I'm fine, Chen.  I just want to be left alone.  Okay?"  Minseok could hear how rude he sounded, and didn't particularly care.

"Yeah...You're sure you're fine?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay. Call if you need anything, right, Minseok?"  With that, Chen disconnected the call.

Minseok huffed at the phone and dropped it in his pocket.  Kicking his work stuff, he headed to his bedroom, intent on pulling his duffel from closet and heading for the gym.  A workout sounded like exactly what he needed, right now.

 

_7 February_

What a day.  Minseok absentmindedly spun the coin on the table. What a day.  He slammed the coin flat with the palm of his hand. What a day.

He had gone to work, but he'd half-assed it the whole time, distracted the whole day.  He'd been retyping the same proposal for the fourth time when his boss had come over to his cubicle.  "Quit pecking at that keyboard and go home," he'd said.  "You're not getting anything done here."

Minseok had saved and closed and wandered out of the office.  After getting lost three times on  his way to the train station, he'd gotten on the wrong line and ended up on the other side of the city. It was a wonder he hadn't been mugged – or worse - in his fugue.

He'd found his way home eventually, throwing open the door and crumpling just inside.

It had taken time, but he had forced himself to stand, and then to settle down nicely in his chair after shedding his outerwear.  It had been too quiet, sitting in his chair, even with the TV on, the room far, far too empty, so he had picked himself back up and dumped into his work chair, laying his head down on a pile of unfinished documents.

Now, he had cleared the table of important papers and was absently spinning a coin.  It was a nervous tic he had developed years before. It was something simple, something to focus on when everything else was out of control.  

Watching the silver flash, he could almost hear Luhan laughing at him.  "What is it now?"

Minseok had the oddest feeling that if he looked up, he would catch glimpse of Luhan's ghost, standing in front of the table.

He'd be red in the face, straight from practice, his football duffel slung over his shoulder, a sports drink in hand, and his face, usually so excited after a good scrimmage, would be falling quickly, reshaping into a worried frown.  If Minseok didn't answer, just stared down at the spinning coin again, Luhan would drop his bag and come around the desk.

"What's wrong?"  he'd ask, and there'd be something just slightly  _off_  in his pronunciation, because there always was, when he was worried or nervous.  "Can I do anything?"

And Minseok would lean back in his chair and watch the coin fall. "I don't know."

He'd feel the press of Luhan's lips on his, so soft and gentle, and then he'd open his eyes to a smirk growing on Luhan's face.

"If I can't help, maybe I can distract you," would slip out of Luhan's mouth, so casually, and Minseok would start to smile himself, because only ever went in one direction.  "I could really use some help showering.  If you wanted to, of course."

And, if Luhan were there, saying these words, Minseok would find himself standing and following him to the bathroom, cares left stored for later in that spinning coin.

But in the here, in the now, Luhan wasn't there, wasn't whispering promises in Minseok's ear.

Eyes yet closed, Minseok listened to phantom footsteps fade away and said, to the far too quiet, far too empty apartment, "You're dead, Luhan."

It was like breaking open a dam, these quiet words.

"You died, Luhan.  You died and you left me all alone.  Can you fix that?  How can you help with that?"

And his face was hot, and wet, and he was sobbing.  The tears choked him and tore him apart from the inside, ripping at the careful barriers he had built over the past year, destroying what was left of his defences.

There was a phantom breath on his face and he could have sworn he felt Luhan's soft lips kissing his tears away.

His phone rang.

"I can't fix it," Minseok imagined he heard Luhan whisper in the silence.

His phone rang.

Chen, the caller ID read.

Minseok answered the phone.

 

_9 May_

"You should have seen his face," Chen laughed, "I haven't gotten anyone that good in  _years_."

The books lay forgotten on the table, pushed aside an hour before in favor of Chen's tall tales.  Minseok didn't believe half of what came out of Chen's mouth, but it was fun to watch him talk.  Much more fun than studying accounting, anyway. Chen reveled in the attention, too, and his stories grew with every smile and laugh from Minseok.  Minseok sipped at his coffee and hummed encouragingly as Chen paused for breath.

"But, what about you?  How's work?"  Chen asked.

"Ahh, it's work.  They're keeping me busy.  The boss has been getting on me about finishing my Master's," Minseok groaned.

"What'd you tell them?"

"'I can write this report, or I can write my thesis.  I cannot possibly do both.'  He told me to 'write the damn report, then'."

Chen laughed, mouth curving upwards as his face split in a grin.  "That's the way!  I'm in the middle of a bunch of red tape right now.  It'll be years before I figure out just which papers need signed and by who."

"At least it doesn't follow you home."

"It sure tries!  I found three different requisition papers in my bag yesterday!"

The conversation continued on against the backdrop of drizzling rain, the two commiserating with each other.  The coffee grew cold and Minseok jumped up to make new as soon as he noticed.

As he waited for the water to boil, Chen asked, “What are you doing?  When this is all over, I mean."

It was a difficult question.  What did he want to do?  "I..." He couldn't really think of anything.  It had been over a year since all of his plans went down in flames, and he'd been too busy trying to keep himself afloat to start to build new ones.  So he was surprised when his mouth opened again.  "I want to finish my degree and work hard to get some money stored away. I want to get enough to start a cafe.”  The words shocked him, but they felt so right.  He tried them again.  “I want to start a cafe."

"With the coffee you make, you'll sell well."  There was something in Chen's expression that said he hadn’t been expecting the answer, either.

Minseok took the boiling water off the stove as he asked, "What about you?  Big plans?"

"Not so much.  I mostly just want to survive this degree."  Chen laughed and Minseok joined him.  "But really, I'd like to work hard and get promoted in this company."

"You really like it there, then?"

"Yeah. They all work hard, and we're doing good work."

Minseok poured the new coffee and the conversation turned again, this time to their most recent classes and the professors that taught them.

It was a calm discussion, and a peaceful joy filled it, the rain and the coffee only serving to increase the atmosphere.  As the conversation lulled into a comfortable silence, Chen finally seeming to have run out of topics, Minseok's phone lit up and started ringing.

Minseok reached for it, but Chen beat him there.

His tone was light and his tone was laughing as he answered.  "Sehunnie! What do you need?"  

Minseok watched Chen's face fall at Sehun's frantic response.

"Have either of you heard from Baekhyun?  He didn't show up to work today, and he's not answering his phone."

 

_12 May_

The loudest sound in the room was Kongju's tail beating on the couch.  The silence swelled with every  _thump_ , filling the room and suffocating the occupants.  Kai lay on his couch, Kongju splayed over him, her comforting weight pinning him where he was, her watchful eyes protecting him from anyone coming near.  He murmured quietly to her and scratched behind her ears.   _Such a good dog.  Such a good girl._

Chanyeol was laying on the floor next to the couch, curled up under Kyungsoo's suit jacket, wrinkling it beyond help, but Kyungsoo didn't seem to mind.  He ran a hand through Chanyeol's hair as he read the report in hand.

Minseok and Chen were sitting against the wall, leaning into each other in the silence.  Chen stroked Minseok's hand absently, the touch stilling Minseok's habitual trembles.

Near the TV, Suho was reading a book and holding Sehun close.  The younger boy was pale and drawn, every emotion sucked out of him in the past month.

They were all so, so tired.  It had been a long month.  No one had wanted to be alone, and no one had wanted to leave the others alone.  When they were all together, the silences stretched like this, Chanyeol too shocked to chatter, Baekhyun  _not there_  to start the conversation.  That was almost the worst part, the way the silences wouldn't break.  It was always too quiet, now.

Minseok finally broke the still air, interrupting the sounds of breathing, clocks ticking, paper sliding against skin.  "I know it's not much, Kai," he started, and his voice was rough and cracked, "and it's not the same situation, but it does stop hurting so much."  He glanced at his hands, held tightly in Chen's to stop the nervous trembling, and continued, "Eventually, it stops hurting so much."

Kai sounded half choked when he responded.  "Thank you, Minseok."  He smoothed over Kongju's fur a few times, trying to get up the courage to continue to speak, to break that silence again.  "I've been thinking...I can't  _stop_  thinking..." it took a deep breath for him to continue speaking, and when he did, it came out in a rush, "If I'd just  _noticed_. If I'd gotten there just a  _little bit faster_ , maybe I could have saved him."

Sehun's voice cracked as he replied, and Kai  _listened_  because Baekhyun had been Sehun's best friend.  "You couldn't have done anything, Kai.  Baekhyun - " he gasped for air, his mind choking him at the name, "Baekhyun wanted to die.  He had it all planned out perfectly.  _None_  of us could have done  _anything_." _Because if any one of us is to blame, all of us are to blame_  went unspoken, but it was heard all the same.

Kai rubbed his head.  "What do I do now?"

Suho put down his book and answered, voice steady, sure, knowing.  "You step back and heal, whatever that means for you, Kai. I worked.  Minseok sat in his apartment, alone, for weeks.  Maybe you curl up with Kongju until the pain eats itself away.  Maybe you go back to school.  Maybe you throw yourself into your dance until your whole body hurts as much as your soul.  But you heal, in whatever way you can."

"You heal," Minseok echoed, squeezing Chen's hand, "in whatever way you can."

 

_30 May_

The early sun was bright in the sky, filtering between the tree trunks and giving the whole copse a soft golden hue.  The pair were stretched out on the ground, Minseok's head on Chen's arm, as they talked.  It was such a nice day for a picnic; the atmosphere and the conversation together melted the stress away.

"Minseok," Chen said, eyes drifting between the trees, watching the way the light made patterns in the leaves.

Minseok hummed in question.

"Minseok, I'd like to take you on a proper date, if you'd like to come." And the phrasing was so light, the tone so offhand that Minseok would have thrown it out as a joking comment if not for the way Chen's eyes had darted down from the trees to his face and his mouth quirked upwards into a smirk.

He has to think a moment, but only a moment, because it's been over a year, and Luhan is not here, will  _never_  be here, but Chen is here and, now, might  _always_  be here.

"Okay, Chennie," Minseok nodded and smiled.

The sun was warm and Minseok's hands didn't tremble a bit as Chen kissed him.

 


End file.
